Anything from the Trolley?
by unitedfandom
Summary: The trolley lady has always been there. I've been experimenting with imagining her story a little bit. Enjoy! (Rated T for very minor references.) This was just a little experiment, but if anyone likes it, I'll write new chapters ;)
1. Chapter 1

**Year 49**

«Anything from the trolley? Yes, here you go, sweetheart, three sickles please.»

The old woman smiled at the young Hufflepuff as he opened his Chocolate frog and tossed one to his girlfriend. She had been pushing the candy trolley for nearly five decades now, and it was never boring.

Once a stray owl had left droppings on the trolley, and a boy with black, messy hair and an untied Gryffindor tie hanging loosely around his neck had come up to her, his cheeks red, and stuttered an apology to her feet. "It's okay, boy," she'd smiled at him. "Here, let me tie that for you."

He left with a properly tied tie, his cheeks even redder than before. He clutched the box of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans she'd given him in his hands, and his plump friend was right in his heels, holding his owl. She thought of his friends, who had laughed at him, the spectacled one whispering "She's hot for you, Pad!" when he though she couldn't hear him. A shame, it was, how the young Gryffindor had turned out. She shuttered at the though of what he had done.

That was the one bad thing about doing this. They entered the Express for the first time with stars in their eyes and innocence in their hearts. Mostly. And then they left for the last time with seven years of cheating on tests, break-ups and mischief in the compartments. Like they thought no-one saw them. She chuckled lightly. She'd seen just about everything while pushing this trolley, but it was worth it.

"Excuse me, have you seen a toad?" A buck-toothed girl with a mop for a hair was looking up at her, a plump boy biting his nails behind her. Poor boy. She'd known his grandmother for years, and his parents, too. She imagined living with Augusta would be challenging. She smiled at the boy, and said kindly "I'm sorry, dears, I haven't. Anything from the trolley?" The girl picked up a chocolate frog and looked at it with interest. A muggle-born, then. "Er, no thanks... Come on Neville, we'll just keep looking."

She went back to pushing her trolley. "Anything from the trolley, dears? Anything from the trolley?" She spotted a compartment with two young boys in it, probably first-years. They'd probably want something. "Anything from the trolley, dears?" She looked at the red-haired boy. Oh, perhaps not. The poor family couldn't really afford the luxury of candy. His brothers usually did, although she had heard their mother telling them off on the platform once for wasting hard-earned money.

"No thanks, I'm all set." He held up a packed lunch, and offered a smile that was far from sincere. The other boy - oh my, it was him. She composed her face in neutral folds as to not make him uncomfortable, and smiled kindly at him. He grinned. "We'll take the lot!"

Her trolley empty, she went to the front of the train, and closed the door of a compartment shut. Slytherins never cared much for privacy, but there were first-years on this train, after all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Year 50**

In 1942 an idea took form in her mind: with all the disappearances and deaths and cruelty this country and the rest of Europe had seen, the students needed some cheering up. So she applied for permit, bought a trolley and sold sweets on the Express. She sold them for buying price and made no profit, she just wanted to cheer up the students. They needed diversions in these times.

As she wrestled a Sickle out of the hand of the brute-looking Slytherin that always seemed to "forget" to pay her, she realised just how much she'd come to love this little task. Twice a year, she was just the "Trolley Lady," and she really liked it.

But she had to admit her feet were killling her, and remembering the boys who had last year bought her entire supplies, she looked around, hoping she would spot them. But, despite her best efforts, they were nowhere to be found. Now, that was odd. She _knew _what the Potter boy looked like, so she couldn't have missed him. So why wasn't he on the train?

The red-headed twins came up to her and started digging through their pockets, and their older brother shot them a glare. "You know what Mum said about spending those money on sweets!" he kept walking, making sure everyone noticed the red P he bore on his chest. "Tsk tsk," she chuckled at the twins. "He's not one to talk, spending money on Fine Madams Sugar-coated Roses for his Ravenclaw lady friend!" The twins grinned at each other, and let her keep the three Knut change. With a slight smile, she went back to business.

"Anything from the trolley, dear?" she said to a blonde boy already in his Slytherin robes.

"Look at that, Goyle, they'll let anyone on this Express. My father said she's been here since his days. Imagine that, not ever doing anything useful with your life."

_Oh,_ she thought. _If only you knew half of what I know about your father._ But she didn't say anything, just charged him an extra Sickle for the chocolate he bought in spite of himself.

The rest of the ride was uneventful. She brought the Hufflepuff compartment the Butterbeer, true to tradition, and reminded them she would get in trouble if they told anyone. A first-year bought an Acid Pop and she had to Episkey his tongue – really, next year she would have to remember not to sell those. A group of sweet Ravenclaws and a Slytherin – a sweet group who proved that inter-house friendships were perfectly okay – bought some chocolate frogs, but nothing exiting.

Hoping the Potter-boys absence did not mean the previous year's trials – of course she'd heard, it was all the students could talk about on the ride back – had made him snap, she smiled at the Hufflepuff compartment, put a finger over her lips and winked, and they winked back, before she retreated to the front of the Experss to share some hot chocolate with the poor man steering the old train.


End file.
